


The Handler

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Adrenaline, Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:26:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: Mac and Jack find themselves in a tiny shack with nothing to do and a lot of energy. Mac makes a suggestion. Jack obliges.
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 44





	The Handler

**Author's Note:**

> Prequel to [Mac-Handling](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24233902)
> 
> My first attempt at a MacDalton lemon. Enjoy ;)

Jack’s fingers were tingling with the remnants of adrenaline that lingered in his bloodstream after the latest in a long line of near misses, and yet another Wookie-Life Debt he would owe a blonde haired, eager eyed maniac who was crazy and clever enough to once again, prove the impossible, possible. 

And boy, did he love him for that.

“Something wrong?” Mac panted, as they took refuge in a lonesome shack a few miles away to wait for the xfil that wouldn’t come for at least another two hours. 

“Not often we finish early, hoss. And you know me, I may be super but I’m also a little stitious,” Jack murmured as he kept close to the only window, taking his normal lookout position to peer his eyes through the narrow crack of wooden boards that covered it. 

But truthfully, his eyes had not left Mac since he cleared the room.

“That’s not it,” Mac smiled with an accusatory tone.

“Hmm?”

“Even when you’re off your rocker about how everything can and will go wrong, you’re never quiet about it.” 

“Caught me,” Jack smirked. “You just...man, you looked like one of the great silver screen actions heroes, except hotter and I can’t help but...rewatch ya.” 

“Even hotter than Bruce Willis?”

“Now, hold on, there, let’s not get carried away--” Jack stammers, but his tongue dances out of his lips, reeling Mac in as he peels off his jacket and letting it fall to the floor behind him. Mac titled his chin up, tracing a bead of sweat that slid down from Jack’s forehead with the tip of his finger.

“I think now is the perfect time to get  _ carried  _ away,” Mac whispered. “We  _ never  _ get a chance like this.”

“Yeah, maybe so, but there may have been one or two stragglers that weren’t acquainted with my fist, we don’t know what sort of shenanigans can still happen--”

“C’mon, big lug. Bet we could get up to all sorts of  _ shenanigans  _ with those big, beefy arms of yours. Maybe a little... _ Mac- _ handling?”

Mac grips Jack’s upper arm, his smile widened as Jack instinctively flexed beneath it. 

“Quite the post-mission rush you’re on there, buddy. Sure those fumes didn’t get to that big brain of yours?”

“Only fumes I’m riding high on is love,  _ darlin,”  _ Mac quipped, slapping the back of his hand against Jack’s chest, knowing it would set off a certain energy within the man that he was just itching to tap into.

It reminded him of their first meeting. The testosterone levels were so high, he could see them radiating off of his partner. A tension released through punches and submission holds. A spark between them that set off the biggest, most everlasting fire in either of their lives.

Only this time, instead of a blow to his jaw, Mac’s shirt was the victim of Jack’s primal desires, completely ripped apart and discarded next to the jacket. 

And in fairness, Mac did the same to Jack’s, the buttons popped and pattered to the floor, the cascading noise followed by two zippers splitting in sync, two belts snapped in the space between them.

It kept the adrenaline alive, though it truly wouldn’t fade unless their eyes tore away from each other. 

“Pick me up,” Mac dared him.

“Such a tiny room, don’t even know where to put ya,” Jack replied, but obliged anyway, easily lifting the smaller man off of his feet and Mac’s legs wrapped around Jack’s waist, his hands gripped the top of his faux hawk that was returning from a recent buzz cut. Jack grunted, and buried his face into the crook of Mac’s neck, bestowing a gentle bite to return the favor of the slight sting of the pull on his skull. 

“Against the wall,” Mac hissed, and the veins in Jack’s arms rose through as he increased the effort in carrying his partner.

“So demanding today,” Jack mused, and in two steps he forcefully pushed Mac into the corner--but before his back could impact, he softened the blow with his own arms, only Mac’s head bobbed in the impact. He arched his back so that his head was almost on top of Jack’s, and gave Jack the signal to get to working his way down his body. 

“What’s taking so long?” Mac whined into Jack’s ear as he lapped his tongue around it. 

“You keep squirming,” Jack chuckled in astonishment.

“You keep touching me in the wrong places!” 

“Well then, tell me what the right ones are,” Jack grunted, lifting Mac up a little higher and littering Mac’s chest with kisses. 

“You’re getting warmer. I can give you a hint, though.”

“You have such little patience for the guy who has to have nothing but when faced with the world’s shortest timers on a daily basis.”

“You were right,” Mac sighed.

“Say that again?”

“You were right, I’m on a rush. And I don’t want it to end.”

“Knew you brought me along for a reason,” Jack winked, and he hoisted Mac even higher, his legs now draped over Jack’s shoulders, his thighs acting as improvised ear muffs, Jack’s nose nuzzled against Mac’s meat, his tongue circling the two ball sacs that made Mac shudder, his fingers splitting the faux hawk apart.

“Oh, Jack!” 

“Oh, Mac...we haven’t even reached the climax of the movie yet,” Jack giggled. He dared to move a hand from Mac’s waist, limiting his movements as much as he could so that Mac wouldn’t sway and fall without the stability as he assisted the shaft to find his mouth.

His hand returned, he began to suck, being careful as to not let his teeth do as much work as before when his hair was pulled to the very edge of being torn out of his scalp. 

The pain only made his blood rush faster. 

“Oh...Ohhhhhh…Jack... _ Jack…”  _ Mac moaned, Jack could feel him squirm beneath his grip, and with ever teeter, Jack countered with a totter, but it came to a head--literally--as Jack became so lost in the job that he realized too little, too late that Mac had started to  _ yelp  _ which was  _ not  _ a sound he ever liked to hear in the bedroom-- _ ”Jack!” _

They immediately pulled apart, and then together again as Jack struggled to keep balance--but Mac was incidentally power-bombed to the floor, the sound of the fall had replaced the adrenaline with absolute  _ dread  _ as Mac’s face contorted into a pained scrunch, and tears were squeezed out of his tightly shut eyelids. In the release, blood in his brain settled back to its basin, every single pulled strand of hair throbbed like a nail hammered into his skull. 

“Mac, baby, you alright?” Jack immediately asked, afraid to touch him and make it worse, his hands hovered, his eyes scanned for any signs of serious injury, he leaned in closer--

And fell into a trap, as Mac’s feet met Jack’s shoulders and pushed him down before he wrapped his ankles around in a knot that kept Jack’s head trapped between his legs. 

“Didn’t say you were done!” Mac groaned. 

“You little shit!” Jack laughed, as he easily wrestled himself out of the tangle of Mac’s legs. “Do I need to remind you  _ I’m  _ the one handling things here?”

“I think you do,” Mac nodded with a winking smirk. 


End file.
